


Doc & Vagabond

by The Girl Who Waited (butafunnygirl)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: F/M, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-09-27 08:11:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9984566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butafunnygirl/pseuds/The%20Girl%20Who%20Waited
Summary: You're Ryan's personal patch up shop. And while he's never told you the details or causes of his injuries or lifestyle, you suddenly become very aware when an infamous Los Santos gang shows up at your door with a beat up Ryan in tow.





	1. Wounded Healer

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all! Finally, a new work, right? This is mostly just a tester chapter to see if you guys like it and want more. So let me know in the comments and by leaving kudos! And if there's a lot of positive response, I'll continue this work.
> 
> This idea was heavily inspired by a Tumblr post I saw a long time ago, so I don't take full credit for the idea.

It was usually 11pm that he'd knock on your door. Ryan from 108, right across the hall. That's how you knew him; and he knew you as Doc, the doctor in training in 109. 

Doc was not, in fact, your name. But it was a nickname Ryan coined about three visits in, considering all you did. You'd become his own personal patch up shop, bandaging him and stitching up deep cuts that he'd come back with every night. 

Ryan, of course, never told you how he acquired injuries, especially the deeper ones, but he always made sure he ended up at your door so you could take care of him. He mentioned that his friends sometimes dropped him there because he couldn't walk himself. 

You two met one night when he staggered in, his hand wrapped in bandages, while you were getting home late from a friend's. He was fumbling with his keys and you noticed he seemed a little...disheveled. 

"You okay?" You asked, meeting his gaze when his head turned. 

"Oh, yeah. Just, uh, hard to work things with only one hand." He raised his bandaged hand, which you noticed was getting a little...bloody. 

"Do you need another bandage? I have some," you admitted, though that didn't seem as odd as it felt. 

"Actually, yes. That'd be great."

"Oh, okay! Come on in, I'll get you cleaned up," you opened your door with ease and ushered the sandy haired man inside, closing the door softly behind you. 

"I'm a medical student. I somehow ended up with a lot of stuff." You laughed softly, before scampering to grab gauze and some other supplies while Ryan hesitantly sat himself on your tiny couch. 

"Well, I appreciate the help, uh---"

"(Y/N). Hi, nice to officially meet you, I guess?" You said as you came back, arms full. Setting everything down on your coffee table, you sat next to Ryan, gently taking his bandaged hand in yours. 

"Nice to meet you too. I'm Ryan."

Picking up your tiny scissors, you cut through the bandages with ease, slowly taking them off to reveal a large cut that was still bleeding on his palm. 

"You might need stitches," you admitted, taking his hand in yours and examining the wound. 

You rested his hand on your lap and grabbed rubbing alcohol and a towel, going to work on cleaning the wound, while Ryan hissed from the pain, doing his best not to pull away. 

"I really don't want to go to the hospital if I don't have to." He said with a frown, and you glanced up at him with a quirked brow. 

"They...they make me really uncomfortable." You gave him a tiny smile in reassurance, before going back to examining the wound, now clean. The bleeding had finally stopped, but it was a long cut. You examined it a minute longer, trying to determine your next step. Eventually you reached tentatively for your gauze, and slowly, began to wrap his hand. 

"I want to check on it again tomorrow, okay? Make sure it's healing." You said as you finished wrapping, taping up the loose ends and giving Ryan more use of his hand. 

"You got it. Same time, same place?" He teased and you chuckled, nodding. 

"Absolutely."

And that was the start of a beautiful friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea was heavily inspired by a Tumblr post I saw a long time ago, so I don't take full credit for the idea.
> 
> And credit to Watsky, who's song titles I'm using as chapter titles.


	2. Energy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan's late. And just when you think he isn't coming, you hear voices outside your door.

He wasn't here. It was almost midnight, no knock on your door. It was silent. It had been silent all night. At least, until you heard voices. 

"It's 109, right?" A voice hissed, laden with a slight accent, definitely Jersey. 

"Yes. Same as it always is," a feminine voice replied. 

"You knock, then," another voice with an accent interjected, this one British. But before they could knock, you beat them to the punch by opening the door. 

And that's when you saw the four men (and one woman), holding an unconscious and battle-worn looking Ryan. 

"Hi, Doc, right?" The female asked, and you nodded numbly, pointing to the couch as they carried him inside. You were trying to figure out what had just happened. But all you could see was Ryan. He was hurt. Bad. That's why he hadn't been here.

"I'm Jack. We're friends of Ryan's." The female was standing with you now, and you felt yourself let out a breath you clearly had been holding. 

"Is he okay? What happened?" You took a few steps toward the male sprawled on your couch, his friends clearing a path for you. You could see blood on his clothing. The same outfit he always wore. 

"He was shot." A man in a suit said. He was tall, with tattoos and a mustache.

"He should be stable; we were able to stop the bleeding for now, but we knew he needed your help." Jack added, and you nodded, feeling a sudden adrenaline rush kick in. 

You hurried to your closet, picking and choosing supplies as needed. 

"So who are all of you, exactly?" You finally asked once you emerged with a towel, which you laid on your coffee table before returning to your closet. 

"Friends of Ryan's." The voice with the New Jersey accent spoke, and you had a feeling these were the ones who dropped him off when he couldn't walk. 

"He's told us about you," another voice, this one new, said. 

"Do you guys have names?" You asked, returning with an armload of bottles, tons of bandages, gauze, cotton, tape, some cloths, and a tiny set of tweezers. 

"Well, you know me. I'm Jack." The female had short red hair, and a Hawaiian shirt. "And there's Geoff, Gavin, Michael, and Jeremy." Jack pointed each of them out, and you tried to give a smile. 

"Okay, so you guys made a temporary tourniquet?" You were removing Ryan's jacket with help from who you thought was Michael (he was the curly haired one, right?) 

"Yeah. The bullet isn't in very deep. But it was enough to bleed quite a lot. Pistol." Jeremy said. 

"I need one of you to take these and put pressure on the wound the minute I remove the tourniquet." You stated, holding out a few cloths that were taken by Jeremy. He crouched at your side, and the other guys tried to give you as much space as necessary. 

"How long has he been unconscious?" You asked as you began to remove the tourniquet, slowly. The wound began bleeding again and Jeremy put pressure on it with the cloths, while you prepared another cloth with rubbing alcohol. 

"He passed out after seeing the blood coming out of his arm." Gavin said, causing Michael to frown. 

"He was in the line of fire on accident. The bullet wasn't meant for him." 

You blinked, trying to concentrate on your patient rather than their words. Jeremy held the pressure as you cleaned around the wound, wiping off dried blood when you could. You prayed the bleeding would stop soon, and you began sterilizing your tweezers in preparation. 

"I need two of you to hold him down. He might wake up, and extracting this is gonna hurt." You watched Michael and Gavin move to hold him, pinning him to the couch. You nodded at Jeremy and he slowly removed the cloths, and you sighed in relief as the bleeding finally ceased. 

You leaned in, tweezers in hand, and slowly began extracting the bullet. And that definitely caused Ryan to stir. The two lads held him tighter, now added with Jeremy, who was holding his shoulder and arm still for you. The hole wasn't too big, and the bullet hadn't burrowed that deep into his arm. So it was actually not that bad, and you carefully gripped the tweezers as the bullet came out the place it had gone in. Immediately Jeremy released his shoulder and went back to applying pressure without you even having to ask. 

"What....Doc?" Ryan's voice was groggy, while you gathered bandages. The guys were greeting Ryan, so you didn't really say much yet. But you knew he wasn't gonna be all that excited about your worlds colliding. He always said his life was very...tangled, and for that reason, he tried to keep you from getting woven into the mess. 

"You got shot. And the good Doc here took the bullet out." Geoff told Ryan with a nod in your direction as you began to wrap his arm with a bandage.

The group continued to chatter until you finished up with Ryan, securing the bandages in place. So far so good. There was minimal blood, and you were content for now. 

"I want to check on this tomorrow morning. It should heal fine on its own, but you can never be too careful." You told Ryan, and he smiled and nodded, understanding as he always did. 

"Thanks for patching this guy up, Doc." Jack said, giving your shoulder a squeeze as the group (sans Ryan), headed toward your door. 

"Always. Keep him out of trouble. And feel free to come back. Maybe without the injuries though," you teased with a chuckle, and the group trickled out of your apartment, leaving you and Ryan alone. 

"So why did the Fake AH Crew bring you to my apartment?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh thank you for the kudos and comments! Seeing you guys so excited makes me excited. I'm definitely gonna update at least once a week if not more. 
> 
> Also credit to George Watsky, who's song titles I'm using for chapter titles.


	3. Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan answers your question, and his two worlds finally start to collide.

"Remember when I said my life was very...tangled? That's why."

You two were sitting on your couch now, a cup of tea for you, water and some painkillers for Ryan. 

"I'm a member of the Fake AH Crew." 

You stared at him, wide eyed and a little confused. Ryan, the sweet guy from the South, who liked diet coke, computers, and video games, was a member of one of Los Santos's most infamous gangs? Apparently you said that aloud, because Ryan chuckled softly. 

"Yeah. Though I like to think Ryan and Vagabond are two different people." 

Vagabond....The masked mercenary. Ryan was the man behind the skull mask. Suddenly, everything made sense. Every injury he'd show up with was from fighting or heisting. No wonder he didn't like hospitals. 

"How'd you know who they were anyway?" Ryan asked you, and you shrugged. 

"It wasn't hard to figure out. The way they were talking about your wound...the line of fire. Accident. Just the way they called themselves your friends, there was a slight hesitation. It seemed like there was more to it. It really hit me after I saw one of Geoff's tattoos." 

"Well, we are friends. Best of. But we're also a team. A crew. They're the people who mean the most to me. Well, besides you." He smiled now. "You were my person on the outside of it all. At least, in a sense."

"I still can be." You told him, and he chuckled again. 

"Very true. You'll still be my number one Doc." He reached over and squeezed your arm, causing you to suddenly pull him into a hug. 

"I'm glad you're okay. I was terrified when they carried you in." You admitted, and he hugged you back. 

"I know. I'm sorry you had to deal with that. I hope the guys behaved." You two let go of each other, going back to your drink. 

"They were awesome. Jeremy was a pro at helping me keep you from dying." You smiled now, and Ryan smiled back. 

"Yeah. We don't have a reliable doc. We have to share with our friends, the Cockbites." You'd heard of them. They ruled another section of Los Santos, allies with the Fake AH Crew, making both crews a true force to be reckoned with. Truly infamous. 

"Really?"

"Yeah. So we all have some basic knowledge of how to take care of ourselves and each other." Ryan nodded, finishing off his glass of water. 

"Wow..." you were surprised, honestly. "No wonder you come to me all the time." You laughed, and Ryan laughed with you. It was a wonderful laugh. It sent the happiest feelings through your body. 

"So I'll come by in the morning, yeah?" 

"Mhmm. We'll check things out, change your bandages. And you'll be okay to get into trouble again." You winked at him as you walked him to your door. 

"Until next time, Doc." Ryan reached out, squeezed your arm, and walked across the hall to 108. Once he was inside, you shut your door and breathed a sigh of relief. 

That wasn't what you expected to happen tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys as always for all the kudos and comments!! <3


	4. Write Your Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the Reader receives an offer from Geoff (via Ryan), and gets pulled deeper into the FAHC rabbit hole.

It was the following week that Ryan mentioned the offer. 

"My boss wanted me to ask you something." 

You two were actually out getting coffee, a rare occasion since Ryan had explained he was usually busy with the crew when he'd asked you out the night before. 

Since the Fake AH Crew had brought him to your apartment, Ryan's wound healed, and he returned with scrapes and bumps, but nothing worse. 

"And that is?" You quirked a brow at Ryan, leaning against the table. 

"The boss is planning something large for the company, and he's worried about possible injury. So, he wanted to hire you to just...hang around, just in case. So I was tasked with seeing if you'd be interested." Ryan was being broad, but you knew it was because you were in public. 

But from what you assumed, "the boss" had to mean Geoff. And he was planning a large heist or something to that degree, and he was worried someone might get shot. Or hurt worse than they could handle. And he wanted someone who could actually handle it around. At least, that's what you were piecing together from Ryan's statement. But that's where you came in. 

"And how do you feel about that?" You asked Ryan. You were his friend, his Doc, first above anyone. So his thoughts mattered to you. Especially in a situation where he clearly knew more about it than you did. 

But you immediately wanted to say yes. You wanted to see Ryan in action as Vagabond. Granted, you were nervous about it. You had been a bit of a goody-goody most of your life. You stayed out of the Los Santos crime scene. You were on track to a good career. This little venture would definitely shake things up. 

"I...I want to say don't do it. But that's selfish of me," he admitted, sipping his Diet Coke. "Do it because the team needs you." 

You smiled, reaching your hand out to squeeze his. It was sweet, how Ryan clearly cared about both you and his friends. Though you knew that he meant it when he said to do it for the team. You'd learned that Ryan was a protective guy; and he never wanted to see someone else hurt. 

"I just don't want you to get hurt. Or worse yet, get involved. Sometimes our competition can become aware of our more...hidden colleagues. It doesn't always end well." He was frowning now, and you felt your face grow long at the mere sight. He was speaking from experience, you assumed. Crews and gangs lost members all the time. So that worry of his wasn't from nowhere. 

"I'm a big tough girl. I tie my own sandals and everything." You chuckled, quoting one of your favorite scenes from Disney's Hercules. 

"That was seamless. Impressive." Ryan laughed too, and it was nice to see the sadness disappear from his face. 

"Thanks. I try." You grinned, taking a sip of your drink. 

"Then I guess...tell your boss it's a deal. Or that I'm interested. I'm not a prime negotiator." Your gaze locked on Ryan's and you saw the flickers of worry and happiness pass through his eyes as you spoke. 

"Okay. If you're sure."

You squeezed his hand again in silent reassurance, feeling your mind and body process exactly what you had just agreed to.

"So, when do I start?"


	5. All I Ever Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being thrown into the thick of it throws Doc for a loop. Is she really ready for all this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "holy shit she updated???"
> 
> i know, i know. 
> 
> my muse has been every which way, and i had no idea where the story was going, so i apologize for taking forever with this update!
> 
> but thank you for all the comments! esp the ones asking me to update, because that really made me get back to it, haha. hopefully you like this new chapter!

You were shaking as the elevator began moving upward. You were about to go see Geoff and the guys. They'd show you the space they had, whatever supplies they hadn't used up. And you'd meet the others, their behind the scenes crew who played their eyes and ears to whatever was needed. 

Ryan had promised to meet you when you got there. But he wasn't on the elevator, or in the lobby. So you assumed he meant upstairs. And when the doors opened, his face was the first thing you looked for. 

In a terrifying moment, Ryan was the source of calm. And you saw him smiling as he and someone else walked toward you, saying hi and cheering at your arrival. So you took a few steps out of the elevator and sucked in some deep breaths, eyes still glued to Ryan. 

"How's it hanging, Doc?" It was Michael that was there, finally ripping you out of your trance. He gave you a little arm squeeze in greeting and you smiled. Michael was a damn good guy. 

"It's hanging. How're you guys?" You addressed him and Ryan, and you suddenly wondered where everyone else was. 

"Good, good. Everyone's in the meeting room. I thought you'd rather have a small welcoming party." Ryan smiled and you felt yourself blush a little. He was right, honestly. And he probably knew that. 

"Meeting room? Geez. Geoff has one giant penthouse." You teased, as Michael and Ryan led you in the room's direction. The minute you stepped inside, your eyes widened. The room was really fucking fancy. And it had a beautiful dark wood table, where the rest of the crew sat. 

Geoff was at the head of the table; Jack was on his right, Gavin on his left. There were three empty seats between Gavin and a pretty looking blonde woman, and you saw Jeremy sitting between Jack and a guy with longer hair and glasses. You also saw a tall, lanky guy, and a guy who looked a little red faced and had on a Star Wars shirt. The group was chattering and laughing and hollering. It was almost as if they were just normal people. 

Michael took the seat beside the blonde, and Ryan was inching toward the seat beside Gavin. So you opted to sit between them. That's when you heard Geoff clear his throat and the group hushed themselves into silence, leaving you amazed. 

"We're all here to discuss the upcoming heist on Pacific Standard Bank," Geoff spoke as he stood, taking in the sight of the whole crew gathered together. 

"I would first like to introduce our step in doctor for this heist, (Y/N)." You felt all the eyes on the room turn on you. 

"But for all intensive purposes, and for her safety and anonymity, we're calling her Doc." 

Ryan had mentioned they wanted to simply call you Doc. But you made sure Ryan was okay sharing the nickname before agreeing to it. It was his 'trademark', after all. And he laughed, saying it was okay. 

"So, let's quickly introduce everyone, so Doc here can figure out what, exactly, you shitheads do besides cause my gray hairs." The group laughed. 

The blonde woman, you learned, was Lindsay. She explained how she was kind of...Geoff's other second in command in a sense. Keeping everything within the FAHC running while he was heisting. 

You noticed she was holding Michael's hand, and they seemed to wear wedding bands. They were married? So cute. 

Next, you met what they called "The B Team". Matt (specialty: weapon design) , Trevor (specialty: hacking), and Andy (specialty:....jack of all trades). 

Ultimately, they were usually on head sets here or elsewhere, keeping surveillance and spearheading communication on everything for the heist. 

Apparently, you'd be with them. If anyone got hurt, they'd rush you wherever you needed to go. 

For the next twenty or so minutes, Geoff detailed the heist, covering who would be doing what, with what vehicle, and how long they expected this to go. 

And that's when he dismissed everyone, but you stayed glued to your chair. Ryan shot you a glance and you offered a nervous smile. 

"I'm gonna show Doc around," Ryan started. You pushed your chair back, and began to stand when Geoff spoke. 

"Show her the whole set up; where the B-Team will be. Take Lindsay." 

The blonde stood, and she immediately wrapped you in a hug. 

"So nice to meet you!" She was warm and friendly, a smile plastered on her cheeks. 

"It's nice to have another girl around, honestly," she admitted as she led you and Ryan out of the room and down into the other part of Geoff's penthouse. 

This thing was massive. Holy shit. Lindsay showed you a few rooms that the B-Team inhabited, ending with the main set up, involving tons of monitors, a bunch of unattended headsets, and chairs. 

"You'll be here. You can watch, just hang out," Lindsay nodded. "And then if anyone needs you for something major, I'll bring you wherever." 

You nodded, feeling partly excited, partly nervous. Ryan squeezed your hand, almost like he could tell you needed that. And it made you smile; just a little. 

After a few more pit stops, Ryan excused himself to go to the bathroom before he escorted you downstairs. While he was gone, Lindsay put a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

"I'll be with you the whole time. I know it can be kind of scary," Lindsay said. "When I was part of my first heist, watching Michael terrified me. I was so worried. But he always came back. And so will Ryan."

You smiled, Lindsay's words resonating in your mind. Ryan would come back. Just like he did every night to your apartment. 

And as if on cue, Ryan appeared, smiling. 

"Ready, Doc?" 

Your eyes found Ryan's, and you reached out to give his hand a squeeze. 

"Absolutely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> credit to Watsky for the chapter title!


	6. Nothing Like The First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night beforehand, pre-heist jitters run awry in Doc's mind until Ryan quells them with his unique perspective.

The night before the heist was supposed to happen, you couldn't sleep. You tried, even went to bed early after you packed, but you ended up pacing around your apartment. You even repacked your bags, thinking it would relax you. 

You had two bags: one full of medical supplies (you packed expecting almost anything to happen, honestly), and another simple travel bag of some clothes that you didn't mind getting ruined, some extra cloth, and anything that you thought might keep you relaxed while watching the heist (though you doubted you'd be relaxed at this rate). They sat neatly packed by the door, because you'd be leaving very, very early in the morning. But it didn't help, and you had quickly returned to pacing. 

You hadn't stopped pacing for almost an hour, until a knock interrupted your pacing rhythm. A familiar knock. Slowly, you approached the door, unlocking and opening it to reveal Ryan, smiling and a little tired.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked you, and you felt a little embarrassed that he somehow could tell without actually knowing.

"Kind of. I'm having...pre-event jitters." You spoke as he came inside, shutting the door behind him. 

"That's normal. Expected, even." You had a feeling every single member of the crew had experienced the same pre-heist jitters when they started. 

"Were you scared during your first heist?" You sat yourself on one end of your couch and Ryan joined you, taking up the remaining space. 

"I was. But I found a way to cope," he explained. "I made Ryan and Vagabond two very different people."

You had recalled him saying something about that the night the FAHC had ended up in your apartment. 

"I think you said that before. What do you mean?" You questioned, curious now. 

"Well...right now, I'm Ryan. Ryan is a regular guy, he likes Diet Coke and computers. He's originally from the South. He is an upstanding citizen." He smiled. 

"And Vagabond...he's a mystery. Even to me. He's quiet and controlled for the most part. He does his job when he needs to and even raises some hell. When I put on the mask, Ryan hibernates for a little while, and Vagabond takes over." Ryan's face had grown serious now. 

"So....what are you trying to say?" 

Ryan smiled again, leaning toward you.

"Think of it like this: There's my Doc, and there's Fake AH Crew Doc. Or, in a way, there's Doc and (Y/N). Think of them as distinct versions of you. They never interact, but they co exist, one more so than the other." His hands were holding yours now. It felt like a bolt of electricity shot through your body. 

"My Doc, (Y/N), is a good person, with a giant heart. She's funny, and makes lots of tea. She took a chance on a strange guy with a bandaged hand. And the Doc we'll see tomorrow is brave, and strong. She's not squeamish or worried, and she will go on auto pilot and take over the minute we need her." 

The space between the two of you disappeared as Ryan moved closer, and you leaned into him more. Within seconds, your lips were connected and that bolt of electricity doubled, even tripled, with the kiss. It felt like it lasted an eternity, until Ryan pulled away to smile at you, as he did. 

"Feel better?" He asked, voice quiet. 

You, speechless, nodded. 

"I'm glad I finally did that." 

You almost giggled, but you could barely do that.

"Think about what I said," he spoke, standing. "And sleep tight, okay? I'll see you tomorrow." Ryan's lips planted a kiss on your forehead and you stood too, practically floating as you led him to the door, locking it behind you when he left. 

The pre-heist jitters that had left you pacing your apartment were nowhere to be seen as you settled down to sleep. Somehow, Ryan made all the worries disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all! Hopefully you enjoyed this little chapter to lead into the events to come. I tried not to rush the inevitable kiss between these two, so I'm hoping it didn't come out like that in my writing!
> 
> With this chapter being posted, I can tell you with all certainty the next chapter is going to be the heist, and that it's gonna be a beast to tackle. So I ask y'all bear with me if the next update doesn't appear for a bit! 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for the kudos and comments. Those emails always brighten my day. 
> 
> And, of course: credit to George Watsky for the chapter title.
> 
> (ps: if any of y'all are going to RTX, I might just see you there~)


	7. Man Of Constant Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's heist day.

When your alarm pulled you out of the blissful sleep you'd lulled into last night, everything suddenly came back to you. Did it really happen? Did Ryan kiss you? You mulled over those questions as you stretched, trying to wake up your body. 

Eventually, you crawled out of bed and got ready. Geoff had given you specific instructions: leave very early in the morning, park in his garage, go up to his apartment, and find Lindsay. So you did just that. 

The drive over was quiet. You tried to keep your mind calm as you drove through the dark streets, recalling silly facts and stories, anything to keep your mind at ease. Eventually, you were sitting in your car, your bags in the passenger seat, engine idling in Geoff's garage. You tried to breathe; to relax yourself enough to get out of the car and go upstairs. 

Your body somehow kicked into auto pilot, and you finally shut down the car, stepping out and removing your bags, hoisting them over your shoulder. You retraced your steps from the last time you'd been there, ending up back in the elevator alone with a sense of deja vu. But Ryan wasn't waiting for you when the doors opened. 

In fact, the apartment was quiet. Silent, practically. You spent a good five minutes wandering, trying to find your way. Hushed voices eventually guided you, until you stumbled upon the B-Team, and Lindsay, sitting at their respective computers. 

"Doc!" Lindsay offered you a smile, as the rest of the crew greeted you with waves and head nods. 

"Hi." You attempted a sleepy smile, as the other girl led you to a chair next to her. You sat, dropping your bags at your side. Lindsay briefly explained the view on the monitors, and offered you a headset. 

"I don't imagine you'll need to talk much, but you can listen. The guys have code names, but you'll probably recognize their voices."

You accepted the headset graciously, sliding it on only to see Lindsay doing the same. The headphones were noise cancelling, so all you could hear were the voices in your ears. 

"The Doctor is in." You heard Lindsay's voice in the headset, and you could see her lips moving, almost like it was a dubbing. A "roger that" from Jack followed. 

Then you heard Matt explaining what the outside of the bank looked like from the cameras, and you followed each little square of video on your monitors when he spoke. Trevor then mentioned the security system, which he was in the process of disabling. He further explained that it would unlock the safe, and that was where the loot was stored. Andy slowly confirmed that the needed vehicles and their getaway drivers were all ready as they reported back, simply waiting for further instruction. It was amazing, how much went into preparation, every detail being exactly right. Eventually, you heard Geoff clear his throat and speak. 

"Alright, you fucks. Let's heist." Geoff's tone held a mix of authority and glee, and you could only imagine the grin on his mustached face. You heard the chorus of cheers from the others, and like clockwork, everything kicked off. Your eyes immediately swiveled to the monitors. 

It was kind of a blur to you, watching and listening, voices coming and going in an instant in your ears. You noticed The B-Team didn't talk much, unless it was to confirm or relay something to the crew, who were maybe a mile or two away from the target. The few who weren't helping rob or directly driving away were doing their own tasks, and you could hear them each letting Lazer ('Geoff', Lindsay had mouthed to you the first time someone said it), know they were set. 

And once the bank was in their sights, you finally saw them on camera. They all wore different attire; one of them was posing as a repair man, to deal with "some minor security system issues", you heard Michael's Jersey accent explain to the clerk at the desk. Somehow she bought it, letting him into the back. 

Meanwhile, two others in more...business casual attire stepped inside; and it was easy for you to recognize Jeremy and Geoff simply by the height difference. They were supposed to pose as customers until Michael told them the back of the building was clear of people. And once he did, you heard clearly as Geoff and Jeremy pulled out their weapons, demanding to be taken to the vault, which Trevor was helping Michael open from his computer. 

You saw Geoff and Jeremy being led to the vault, where Michael had begun filling one of the bags with bundles of money. Jeremy kept his weapon pointed at the clerk as Geoff filled the other bag. By the time the bags were bursting, Jeremy tossed away the clerk, and the three made a break for a back door, demanding that Jack be ready with that chopper. Jeremy was calling on another person named "Loot Box", who Lindsay, saved the day by once again, mouthing the name ('Larry') to meet at their spot with the car. 

Ryan and Gavin, meanwhile, were on the ground, dealing with police. Grenades and sticky bombs were going off with fury as police cars went sailing through the air. Jack announced that her passengers were on board, and they were off to one of their safe houses to debrief. Jeremy was going to help Gavin and Ryan, who were going to meet their own getaway vehicles, hoping the cops would chase them rather than the chopper. 

At that point, the feeds changed to ones that seemed to come from the guys' (and girl's) perspectives. So you were watching first hand as the six of them attempted to make their escapes. So far, they were good. The three sets of vehicles on the ground were going separate directions to different points, while the chopper fought the few police helicopters. 

Eventually video feeds blurred into one, full of cars and sirens, clouding your vision until you couldn't tell any of them apart. It sort of felt like you were watching yourself watching the chase. As if you weren't the you watching this. This was interrupted when you felt Lindsay shaking you, practically tearing off your headphones. 

"We have to go." Her voice was calm, but you could hear the shaky undertone.

"One of the guys got hurt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, friends! Thank you for holding on through the long wait. Hopefully this chapter was worth it. To be honest with y'all, writing the heist was actually really challenging, which was why it took so long. Especially because the reader isn't directly involved, which forced me to get creative. But, I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out. 
> 
> Also, I almost made the chapter summary "Lllllllllet's heist!", but I somehow restrained myself. 
> 
> As always, thank you guys for the kudos, the comments, the subs, and the bookmarks. Chapter 8 is coming soon! 
> 
> And of course: credit to Watsky for the chapter title!


	8. Ugly Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like an injury to spice up Doc's first heist.

Lindsay's presence, that calm energy, seemed to be the only thing carrying you through this as she rushed you down through the penthouse. One of your duffels was flung over her shoulder, and you had the other one. You felt numb. She didn't say who had gotten hurt, but it was significant enough that it warranted your examination. And somehow, that made it all the more worse. 

"We're going to one of the safehouses. They should all meet us there."

Lindsay's eyes traveled briefly to her phone, then back upward as she barreled through Geoff's garage, picking some inconspicuous car and hopping into the drivers seat. The duffel bag went into the back, and you let the other rest with it as you slumped into the passenger seat. Lindsay's cellphone sat between you in case it rang. 

"I know you're worried, but I promise you, it's going to be okay. You're a smart one. You clearly know how to fix up people, if Ryan's any example."

You offered her a sad smile, and a nod. You couldn't speak. Or you didn't want to. Either or. So you leaned against the doorframe, watching Los Santos pass you by. It was a beautiful city, amidst all the gang activity. 

"See that building? That's where Geoff introduced all of us to each other. That's where we became the Fake AH Crew."

You took note of that building, and that prompted you to speak. 

"Ryan once mentioned that a few people that ended up working for you guys...they got hurt. Is that true?" You could recall the sad look in his eyes. 

"Yeah. A few folks come to mind," she said, hesitating as if she was going to name one. "But you're not gonna be one of them. I like you. I want you to stick around. Even if it's just as a friend." The blonde shot you a smile, then turned back to the road. 

"I...I'd like that." You managed, before the car suddenly made a turn into a dark alley. 

The car went farther, finally stopping as it reached a brick wall. Stopping the car, Lindsay turned to grab one bag, and you the other. With speed, the two of you got out of the car, and you were ushered toward an inconspicuous door. With a special knock, you heard deadbolts and locks being undone, and the door opening to reveal Jack, who pulled you both in with force, before resealing every lock and deadbolt with ease. 

"Glad you two got here easily. The patient's in the back room. If you need anything, Doc, just ask one of the guys."

You nodded in thanks and followed Lindsay down the hall. This looked like an old, abandoned office. Or something like that. Though the rooms now held equipment, beds, and other things you'd expect in a safe house. The back room, the biggest by far, held small hospital style beds. The makeshift infirmary. 

But you weren't focused on that. You were more concerned by Ryan, who was laying in the bed closest to you, a large spot of dark blood pooling around his shoulder. Jeremy and Michael were there, and Lindsay dropped the bag at your side to hug her husband. 

"So, the LSPD managed to get Ryan. We think the bullet's in his shoulder. None of us saw them. It could honestly be fractured. Or cracked." Jeremy explained, but you couldn't seem to focus on anything else. At least for a minute. Then you forced yourself to focus.

"I need a table, a bowl, and I need an assistant."

Jeremy and Michael both nodded, heading off to gather supplies. 

"I'll be moral support." Lindsay gave you a thumbs up and you couldn't help but smile. 

You slowly began to open your duffel bags, finding the one that held the clothes and old scrubs, quickly throwing them on if only to keep your real clothes clean. When the guys returned with the table, you laid a large towel over it, and began to unpack your supplies. Tools, gauze, needles, tweezers, anything you thought you'd need. You fitted a shower cap over your hair, and you placed an unopened box of gloves on the table. 

You spied a sink on the other side of the room, and you ran to it, scrubbing your hands as raw as you could. Ryan was hurt again. And you hadn't said a word to him since the night before. Since he'd kissed you and assured your troubled mind. It was gnawing at you. You'd gotten lost in your thoughts, apparently, because Michael was calling you. 

"Doc! Hey, we got everything. All set?" 

You frowned for a moment. But then everything clicked. You felt yourself snap to action. 

"Fill the bowl with warm water for me." You spoke, drying your hands quickly. You moved to the table and opened your box of gloves, pulling one out and putting on your left hand, then doing the same with your right. You gestured to Jeremy, and wordlessly, you put a pair of gloves on him, unofficially claiming him as your assistant. 

"You and Michael need to remove his jacket, the shirt, everything covering the wound."

They did as instructed, leaving a bare chested Ryan with a bleeding shoulder. You took that opportunity to examine the wound as quickly as you could. The bullet had burrowed itself deep, and you worried it had, as Jeremy suggested, cracked or fractured his shoulder. But without any x-rays, you had to simply treat it with caution. 

Jeremy swooped in to apply pressure, and you picked up a small vial and a needle. An anesthetic, which would hopefully keep Ryan knocked out for a little while. After it was prepped, you turned his arm, finding a vein and sticking the needle inside, as the anesthetic slowly entered his body. 

Lindsay and Michael had disappeared, no doubt to see the others and give them an update. Which left you and Jeremy to work in comfortable silence. The minute he removed the towel, you went to work. At first you attempted to pluck the bullet out the way it went in, like you had with the one you'd dealt with before. But this was deeper, and your tweezers weren't able to get that far. 

Which caused you to get creative. Jeremy was handing you tools left and right as you made tiny incisions in Ryan's skin, in order to reach the bullet. It felt like your body and brain had gone into auto pilot. You weren't focused on the fact that you were operating on the guy you liked, or that this was incredibly dangerous. If you were thinking about anything, it was about what Ryan had said the night before. 

In this moment, you were Doc. The fearless fixer-upper. And you had to fix Vagabond. 

Even with the room you'd created, you couldn't tell if the bullet had damaged the bone in his shoulder. It was hard enough to get the bullet to dislodge, though it did after a few minutes of wiggling and prodding. It sat, blood spattered, on the table like a reminder of what happened. Now that it was out, all you had to do was sew him up. Which you did, giving him a neat line of stitches across the front of his shoulder. It would definitely scar, and you reminded yourself to tell Ryan that. Though he had a lot of scars already, and you had a feeling this would simply be a new addition. 

"When he wakes up, we have to find out if his shoulder is damaged. I can make him a sling, but if something's wrong, like, if it's broken, that's really out of my wheelhouse." 

You cleaned the area around the stitches as you spoke to Jeremy, and he simply nodded as he peeled away his gloves. 

"I'll go tell the guys. You need help cleaning up?" He asked, and after you shook your head, he disappeared. You wrapped the stitched up section of his arm in gauze, taping it in place. And with that, you felt yourself practically collapse. As if your auto-pilot suddenly turned off, leaving you to deal with your emotions. 

After a minute, you finally moved, pushing yourself to clean up; removing your gloves, cleaning your tools, packing it away. The silence had settled around you as you cleaned. You changed out of your scrubs back into your normal attire, setting them aside in case you were supposed to burn them or something. 

You found a chair in one of the corners of the room and pulled it toward Ryan, suddenly collapsing in it, curling up, hugging your knees to your chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly my google search history has become very medical based since I started writing this fic. Y'all don't understand. I will be up late writing and I'll think "how to patch up a bullet wound", and then it's off to google. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed chapter eight!! 
> 
> As always, thank you for all the support! It means the world to me. 
> 
> And of course: credit to Watsky for the chapter title.


	9. 4AM Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things seem better in the light of day.

At some point after you'd curled up on the chair, you passed out. And possibly cried, if the dried tear streaks you felt on your cheeks were anything to go off of. Apparently someone looked in on you, because now you were covered by a blanket. You yawned, sitting up to look at the darkness surrounding you. It had to be the middle of the night. The screen on your phone lit up 3:53am when you touched it, confirming your suspicions. You set it back where it had been, and your gaze shifted to the man in the cot. 

Even in the dark, you could see that Ryan was asleep, and he'd shifted whenever he woke up, so he was sprawled on the cot, tangled in the thin blanket. It was cute. You smiled, a tiny little smile, and opted to curl back up into your chair, eyes fluttering shut. 

\--------

When you eventually woke up, it was because of a voice. Or voices. 

"So, you're feeling okay?"

"I'm fine. I was more worried about her. You sure she was fine?"

"She was great! She sprang into action."

You didn't move, kept up the appearance that you were asleep, hoping the guys would continue to talk. 

"I just thought things would be...different." 

The shift in Ryan's tone meant he clearly had been thinking about the kiss. At least, that's how you chose to read into it. So at least you weren't alone in those thoughts. But then again, he didn't know that had plagued your mind all day. 

"Well, I guess she surprised you. We'll have her check on your shoulder when she's awake, okay?"

The silence coupled with retreating footsteps caused you to feign a wake up, a yawn with a stretch of your limbs. 

"Look who's awake." Ryan teased, sitting on his cot, glancing at you. You offered him a tired smile, and he moved so he was closer to you. He had his arm in a makeshift sling, and your eyes were drawn to it. He caught your gaze, clearly aware of whatever it was you were trying to determine. 

"It might be bad. It definitely hurts to move it," was his response to a question you hadn't asked, but clearly thought about. His lips twisted to a frown, and suddenly, it felt like everything you'd kept locked up yesterday began overflowing in your brain. 

"I'm glad you're okay. I was worried sick. I don't even know how I managed to take out the bullet, much less stitch you up at all. It didn't help that I was watching, and that no one told me that it was you that had gotten---" You stammered, words spilling out of your mouth like crazy, as if you couldn't stop. Eventually you stopped because Ryan (thankfully) cut you off.

"Breathe," he instructed. "You must've gone into Doc mode. Just like I knew you would."

You did manage to breathe, and after a moment of calm, you decided to do a quick check on his bandage. You lifted a corner of the gauze to peek, and it seemed like everything was good.

"It's going to scar," you told him bluntly. He merely replied with a laugh that managed to get you to smile. A real smile, no doubt more than you'd smiled in the last twelve hours or so. 

"Welcome to the club," He said to his wrapped shoulder, chuckling. Just like you'd thought when you were giving him stitches the day before. You offered a laugh as you removed his arm from the sling and moved it, paying close attention to the way his face would contort with pain when you moved it certain ways. You kept a hand on the shoulder, trying to see if you felt any weird bone or something out of the ordinary. You didn't, but the facial expressions he'd given you meant that something was wrong, even if you didn't know what, exactly, it could be. 

"Bad news," You spoke as you returned his arm to the sling. 

"Bad news? Just rip off the band-aid, Doc." He teased you, and you smiled with a half roll of your eyes. 

"Well...we're gonna have to take a trip to the hospital. Obviously we'll let Geoff know. In case he needs to take care of anything. And of course we need a story." You clearly thought it through in the minute or so you'd spent moving Ryan's arm like a Barbie. Or in this case, a Ken. 

Ryan's face gave away that he wasn't all that excited at the prospect, but you knew this was the best option. You outlined a plan, hoping Ryan would be more on board. 

"So, I say we talk to Geoff, run to your apartment and get your ID and stuff, then go to the nearest hospital out of Los Santos." 

The fact that Ryan was now trying to hoist himself out of bed told you that maybe this would be easy. Or that you wouldn't have to fight Ryan so much to agree to go. But as you two moved through the safe house to see Geoff, you realized this wasn't going to be easy at all. Not when you felt every pair of eyes in the room shift to look at you and Ryan. 

"Ryan definitely needs to see a doctor. Something is wrong, and he needs a diagnosis that I can't give here." You spoke as you two approached Geoff. The group sitting around him fell to a hush, and the tattooed man didn't speak for a moment. He just looked at you, then at Ryan, who must've said something with the expression on his face, because Geoff finally opened his mouth. 

"Alright. Sit, and tell me exactly what you think is wrong." Slowly, you sunk into a chair and explained possible issues with Ryan's shoulder; you covered a lexicon of different ideas, and you explained that you didn't have the tools to actually diagnose him correctly. You felt the eyes of all the Fake AHers burrowing into every bit of you as you spoke. You told him your plan, as you'd outlined to Ryan, and the crew leader nodded, clearly impressed, even a little bit. 

"Let Jack drive. Just in case." He swiveled his gaze to his second in command, and the woman nodded at you, smiling. 

So that's how you ended up in a car with Jack, with you in shotgun and Ryan in the back, as a precaution. You'd been extra cautious in the last twelve or so hours since the accident. But as Jack pulled in front of your apartment building, it felt like suddenly everything snapped to normalcy. Almost as if everything /had/ to be normal. If only to keep Ryan, Jack, and all your new friends safe. 

You and Ryan rushed to your apartments with ease. You quickly emerged with a purse before slipping across the way into Ryan's apartment. It was homey. It was minimalist, and very clean, like it was barely lived in. As if whoever rented it didn't use it often. And you had a gut feeling that this piece of Ryan's apartment didn't see much of hi, You moved through the living room until you saw Ryan in the middle of his bedroom, shirtless and trying to tug his pants off. 

"So smooth." You must've startled him when you cracked your joke, because he spun around and chucked. 

"It would be smoother if this shoulder thing didn't make it so difficult." 

Wordlessly, you moved toward him, grabbing a clean shirt off his bed and sliding it over his head. This didn't have to feel weird if you didn't make it weird, right? Granted, all you could think about was how good he looked shirtless, and how much you wanted to be stripping him down in very different circumstances. 

"You probably won't be able to dress yourself, depending on what happens." 

You told him this as you helped him get his arms through the arm holes. You had seen it enough; patients with shoulder issues often had limited use of the arm, unable to do simple stuff like change clothes. Your hands moved to tug his jeans off until they pooled at his feet. You snagged the jeans he left with the shirt and offered him one leg, then the other. He looped his good hand through the belt loop, and you helped him tug them up. 

"Yeah. I'm a fast healer, so I'm hoping it's a speedy recovery." He laughed and you both walked back through his apartment, stopping momentarily for him to shove a worn looking wallet into his jeans. 

"With you? It's possible, Ryan." You teased, as you both hurried to join Jack in the car. 

The ginger was idling at the curb, not batting an eye as you two jumped into the car. She glanced your way. 

"Where to, Doc?" 

You glanced at Ryan in the rearview mirror, and he smiled at you, and you smiled back. It seemed to give you some sort of confidence as you spoke. 

"Closest hospital outside of Los Santos."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're hitting double digits next chapter! It's crazy. And I'm insanely excited to continue down this story's path with you guys. I've got some good stuff ready for the next chapter. I'm super excited to see how y'all are gonna react. 
> 
> So, usual business: thank you as always for your comments (they brighten my day tbh!!), your kudos, your subs, your bookmarks, all that jazz. 
> 
> Please continue to leave those things; share with your friends! Share with people you know like RT Reader Inserts! I love to see new faces leaving kudos and comments and joining this adventure. 
> 
> And, of course, credit to Watsky for the chapter title.


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